


At Least It Can't Get Any Worse

by snarkasaurus



Series: Fictober 2018 [28]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-19
Updated: 2018-11-19
Packaged: 2019-08-26 06:22:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16676239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snarkasaurus/pseuds/snarkasaurus
Summary: Fictober 2018, Day 27





	At Least It Can't Get Any Worse

Stiles considered the fact that he was tied to a chair, arms behind him and legs tied to the outside of each chair leg, spreading his thighs almost uncomfortably because of the angle. This was not the position he expected to be stuck in today. To be fair, he wasn’t sure he’d expect to be stuck in this position ever. His hips were hurting because of how he was situated. “Do you think that...uh. Do you think we could retie me?” he asked the woman paring her fingernails with the tip of a knife. “Just so that I can walk when I finally get out of here?”

 

She paused what she was doing and raised an eyebrow at Stiles. “No? What kind of question is that? Do you really think I’m stupid enough to untie you even a little bit so that you can kick me in the face and escape?” She snorted and shook her head before going back to trimming her nails. 

Stiles honestly hadn’t even thought about escaping. “I don’t...like. That wasn’t what I was going to do,” he said, but he knew it was futile. “Well. Fine then. At least, once my hips dislocate, it can’t get any worse.” 

She rolled her eyes at him, and the lapsed back into silence. 

The thing was, Stiles hadn’t even considered needing to escape because he knew that his pack was coming for him. He knew that he was going to have plenty of help walking if it need be, so it was more just the discomfort he would rather avoid. Clearly that wasn’t going to be allowed. Because this woman was mean. 

It didn’t take very long before she stopped messing with her nails and looked up. She frowned, eyes narrowing as she listened to something Stiles couldn’t hear. After a moment, she smirked. “Oh good, they took the bait. Your pack is here.” 

Stiles shrugged. “Okay.” He wasn’t worried. They’d defeated far stronger groups than this. Sure enough, as his captor listened, her expression grew more and more angry and alarmed. “Not going well?” he asked innocently. 

She snarled at him. “Shut up, human.” She turned to face the door and stared at it. Suddenly, she darted across the room, and Stiles found his head pulled back, knife held against his adam’s apple. 

“Y’know,” he said. “You have claws. Why are you using a knife?” 

“Shut _up_ ,” she hissed, yanking at his hair, but she didn’t get a chance to say anything else. The singing of a string and a vicious, slick thud cut her off. Stiles winced as her claws pulled his hair on her way to the ground. 

“You could have let go before you collapsed,” he muttered down at her thrashing, screaming form. “Good shot, Allison!” He studied the crossbow bolt protruding from her right eye socket. “Death throes are apparently literal.” 

“Do you ever stop talking?” Allison said, coming into the room. Her crossbow was already renocked, and she had it pointed at the quieting werewolf. “She’s dead, she just doesn’t know it. There’s wolfsbane on those and the shafts are mountain ash.” 

“I would expect nothing less. Could you, uh…” he nodded at his hands, lifting them awkwardly up behind him.” 

She didn’t say anything, but Derek rushing into the room, blood smeared and furious, was probably the reason. He had Stiles untied in three swipes of his claws and was hauling Stiles to his feet. 

“Easy!” Stiles cried, wincing as his hips were forcibly recentered where they should be. “I was tied in a really uncomfortable pos--WHOA!” Derek hauled Stiles up and over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry and was running back the way they’d come. 

Stiles mused, as he watched Derek’s ass while he ran, “This is definitely not any worse.”


End file.
